| Deep in the earth, where the sleeper gives birth to great wonders
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| In the belly of the soil where all living recoils and daylight gets torn asunder
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| Among false deeds and swollen leafs they slumber
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| As rites of passage clears the ashes exposes the worn and plundered
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| Where no thought dwell…
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| They feed the broken shell
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| Where the unconscious still lingers
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| The flicking of delicate fingers
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| Of the dirt out of wasted attempts
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| A sting of hope moving in the debris
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| Of the ashes out of fear and contempt
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| A single breath of life flows in the breeze
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| In days of yore, the seeker explored lost faces
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| When the ears of the broken hears the unspoken and connects the fading traces
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| Old tragedies becomes new remedies to bring action
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| Where all is destroyed, out of the void breeds a new distraction
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| With no air to dream
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| There is no life to be seen
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| Where the ghosts still roam
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| Is where they call their home
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| Dark, cavelike halls
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| Tear down the walls
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| Let out the night
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| Damp, suffocating rooms
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| Air out the womb
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| Let in the light
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| Oh, great winds, give me the wings to soar once again
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| Oh, take me with you, carry me up high and rejoyce as I ascend |